Work Text:
Ellington nodded. "Whenever I seem to get close to finding my father, I hear that horrible thing."
- Lemony Snicket, Shouldn't You Be in School?
The record player ended just as Ellington placed the two white plates with the faint blue flower pattern on the kitchen table. Hers had been chipped on one side for as long as she could remember. The tip of her little finger had always fit perfectly into the small hole, but now, it stood out a little. She put out the butter, the cheese, the honey, the pears, and the jam Father and she had made together in summer from the blueberries in the garden. In the middle of the table stood the rusty milk pail she had gotten to repaint, and that now held a bunch of goldenrods and blue-eyed grass.
Father was still hanging the last pieces of white laundry in the backyard on the lines crisscrossing between the trees. They gleamed in the morning sun and billowed in the wind. Bold stood with his front paws up on the windowsill to watch him. Ellington sat down beside him and hugged him tightly. He nuzzled her shoulder. When Charmer saw this, she ran towards them, placed her black paw on Ellington’s knee, and chirped. Ellington scratched her favorite spot under her chin, covered in soft white fur.
The kitchen timer rang. Seconds later, Father hurried in through the back door, carrying the empty laundry basket. Still humming the tune from the record player, he put it on the floor and opened the oven door. The smell of warm, fresh bread filled the air. Father placed the bread on the counter to cool and put in the cake waiting in the baking tin.
“No, stop!” Ellington called as Charmer leaped away from her toward the still-open door, making Father reel around.
“No way, I just mended these!” He chased after her into the backyard, but she had already torn the nearest sheet down and snuggled into it when he caught up with her.
“Never mind, Charmer, you can keep this one just as well,” he sighed, picking her up and carrying her back inside. “Something to remind you of your den. And a good nest for your own, don’t you think?”
Ellington clutched Bold even tighter while Father turned the record player back on and boiled water. He placed a mug of tea next to Ellington’s plate and sat down with some coffee for himself. Slowly, he blew into it, resting his head in his palm for a moment. A few small blood stains covered his cheeks. He had those sometimes. He told her they came from accidentally cutting himself when shaving in the morning. She had asked him why he had to do this if it hurt him. He said it wasn’t bad. The cuts only happened when he wasn’t paying attention because he was tired and hurried to start the day’s work.
“Come and have breakfast, dear,” he said now. “You’ll need your strength for the big day.”
Ellington let go of Bold to sit down at the table.
They had found Bold and Charmer early last spring after a storm that had destroyed their borough. They had been orphans, tiny, and almost starved. Ellington had loved them at once and named them after the foxes in the book Father had read to her during winter. Father had warned her that they might not make it. But he had taught her to hold and clean them and to feed them with the same old milk bottles he had used to nurse her as a baby. She even got to help him measure them and put them on the scale now that she had learned to read numbers. Every day, they grew bigger and stronger. They would run around the house, smash the flowerpots, steal food from the table, and snuggle beside Ellington in the evening when Father read to them. Now, it was September, the time of year when young foxes left their childhood dens. Today, they would release them back into the woods.
“We’ll stop by to see the mayor before going to the valley. She asked for us. I’ve only been told it’s a school issue. Ellington, is there something I should know about?”
Ellington shook her head. The mayor’s son Henry had just entered second grade like herself, so she had seen her a few times at school. Everyone took off their hats when talking to her. Ellington was a little scared of her because she never stopped smiling. Her teeth were always bare.
“You know I want you to tell me if you get into trouble,” Father said. “There’s nothing we can’t fix.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Really, Ellington, it’s about time you behave like a kid. Charmer has ruined five sheets within half a year. And you haven’t brought home a single notice yet. Couldn’t you get sent out of the classroom for imitating an owl or something?”
After they had finished their breakfast, Father wiped the table and put the cake out to cool. “So, carefully, carefully with the plates!” he sang while putting the dishes into the sink. Ellington chimed in. It was her new favorite song from the book he was just reading to her. A bunch of dwarves came to the house of a small creature named Bilbo Baggins, ate his food, and sang a song about breaking his dishes while cleaning them. They made fun of him for being so fussy. Ellington had squealed with laughter when she had first heard it. Even now, it cheered her up.
Now, they had to put Bold and Charmer in their boxes for the ride. They could not let them out again before arriving in the woods. Ellington wept as she hugged them, and Father hugged her in turn.
“Why can’t they stay with us?”
“That’s nature. Kids grow up to make their own way in the world. And the parents always cry.”
The air outside was cold, but the sun warmed their faces. The smell of rain was still in the air; Ellington had heard the light tapping against her window as she couldn’t sleep. Father lifted the boxes onto the car’s loading space. They got inside the driver’s cab, and he placed his music box on the instrument board. He turned the crank until there was a click, and his favorite tune started to play.
Their house was at the very edge of the town, so they had to go down the whole Main Street past the farms on both sides into the center. It was called Main Street, even though most of it was just a clay road covered in cracks and holes. When it rained, they became large puddles, turning everything into mud. In winter, the water froze and tore open the earth, so there were always a few new cracks in spring. People said the road was a shame. Father said it was nature having its way, no matter how hard humans tried to push it down.
The road was empty this morning; only the farmers were all at work. When Father raised his hand to greet them as they passed, they stopped briefly, but no one smiled. Some didn’t even look at them. Only old Bill waved at them across the fence he was just mending. Father bought milk from him whenever he needed to feed a young animal.
“Good morning, Armstrong!” His black teeth showed. He was chewing tobacco.
“Good morning, Bill.”
“Are these the foxes? You want to upset everyone, driving them around like this, eh? Making everyone nervous about their chicken.” He spat tobacco on the ground. “But as I always say, you can’t keep nature away. It’s our job to keep our fences in order. Do you need new supplies?”
“It’s not the time of year. “
“Speak of the devil, is this…Ellington? How you’ve grown! I remember your father carrying you in a bundle around his neck.”
Ellington didn’t know what to say.
“We need to be on our way,” Father said. “So long, Bill.”
“So long.”
They reached Main Street and drove into the town's center, where the road was paved and the shopkeepers were just setting up their displays. Mayor Gray lived in the largest and most beautiful house in all Killdeer Fields. They stopped near the gates, got out of the car, and Father rang the bell. A man wearing a dark suit came down the pathway lined by two perfect rows of cedars. The lawn was trimmed short, without a single flower or vegetable patch. Ellington wondered what the mayor was doing with all that grass.
“Good morning, Mr. Feint,” he said curtly, glancing at their feet. They wore their best clothes for release day and hiking boots for the woods. “Madam is expecting you. Your daughter may wait in the car. I’ve been told it won’t take long.”
“Good morning, Mr. Parsons. I certainly won’t leave my family in the car.”
Bold stuck his snout out of his box and wailed. Mr. Parsons glared at him. “What are you thinking?”
“You called me yesterday evening to tell me the mayor wished to speak to me. And here I am. This is the only way I could make time so soon. So if she wants to see me today, she’ll have to see all of us. I’ll gladly wait for her response.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mr. Parsons sighed. “Come in. But you’ll leave those foxes in the hall.”
They followed him up the path and over the threshold into a great hall with high ceilings, larger than Ellington’s schoolroom, where Father set the boxes down gently. Ellington wondered why anyone would need such a huge room in their home or why Mr. Parsons was even here. Father had explained to her that a servant was someone you paid money for doing things you didn’t want to do yourself. Still, she didn’t understand why Mayor Gray would pay someone just to answer the door for her. No one in Killdeer Fields did this except for her.
“Wait here. I'll announce you.”
Mr. Parsons knocked at a door and slipped inside. Ellington reached down to scratch Bold's and Charmer's snouts through the grates.
“You can sit here next to me,” Father whispered, gesturing at a fancy sofa near the wall. “It will take a while. People with too large homes always make you wait longer than they need to. They want you to feel small.”
He had also explained that people liked to hire servants to buy the respect they hadn’t earned.
After a while, Mr. Parsons came back. “The mayor will receive you in the parlor.”
Ellington followed her father into a bright room with polished wooden tables and comfortable armchairs. The fireplace had no fire as the sunrays warmed the room through the wide windows. Mayor Gray was wearing a fancy gown and a pearl necklace. Her smiling teeth matched the row of pearls.
“Good morning, Mr. Feint. How wonderful you could make it so soon. And you’ve brought little Ellington, lovely. How are you doing, dear?”
“Fine, thank you,” Ellington replied, shifting nervously from foot to foot. This room was too empty, with so much space between the seats. Only one single vase with a few lonely roses sat on a sideboard, nothing else. The wooden floor was shining as if no one ever walked on it.
“Please have a seat. You will have a cup of tea with me, won’t you?”
“Of course, Mayor.”
“Oh, no need to be formal today,” she laughed. “Just let us speak frankly from parent to parent.”
They sat down on a sofa across from her. A maid wearing a black dress and a small white hat placed a tray on the table.
“Thank you,” Ellington said to her.
“Such a well-behaved girl.” Mrs. Gray smiled at her but didn’t say ‘thank you’ to the maid herself. Instead, she stirred a little sugar into her cup with a golden spoon.
“Now, Mr. Feint, we all respect your situation and the work you do for our community, so I wished to avoid calling you out in public at the last parent-teacher conference. But recently, there have been some concerns. Several parents have been alarmed because your daughter has taught their children inappropriate songs at school. Will you please enlighten me where she got them from?”
Ellington didn't know what 'inappropriate' meant but felt scared anyway.
“What kind of inappropriate?” Father asked, blowing into his tea.
Mrs. Gray cleared her throat.
“Come now, if she taught someone the songs, she already knows them. So go on.”
“Well, some kind of anarchist propaganda. A call to vandalism and destruction.”
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The children came home chanting about destroying the house and the kitchen.”
“Mrs. Gray, did that song begin by any chance with Chip the glasses and crack the plates?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Father stared at her, then burst into laughter and beamed at Ellington. “You taught your schoolmates the Blunt the Knives song? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t, really. I once sang it to myself while I was packing my bag. The others heard it and thought it was funny and started singing after me.”
“How nice at least one of us is enjoying themselves,” Mrs. Gray snapped.
“So this is why you wanted to see me? Have all these children already demolished their entire kitchens?”
“This is not about what our children have or have not done, Mr. Feint. This is about our community’s concerns. It is my job to take them seriously.”
“It’s only a joke,” Ellington spoke up. “It’s from-“
Father shook his head to cut her off.
“So I think the matter is settled, Mrs. Gray. Thank you for the tea. It’s nice to see what we’re paying our taxes for.”
“Don’t take this too lightly.” She had stopped smiling. “You will refrain from teaching your daughter any more inappropriate songs.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I never teach her anything inappropriate.” He stood up and began humming the tune of the song. “Come, Ellington.”
“Mr. Feint! Mr. Feint, are you listening to me? Raising a child takes a little more than nursing a found beast.”
“Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates-
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!”
“Why didn’t you tell her it’s from a book?” Ellington asked when they left the house.
“She’d probably want that forbidden, too.”
“Shouldn't I have sung the song in school?”
“On the contrary! Teach them all the songs.”
Soon, they were on the road again, driving out of town and down into the valley, with the music box tinkering on the instrument board. Father turned down the window to take a deep breath after they had passed the last house. Ellington leaned out of the window herself to catch the wind and the sun rays that made it through the high trees. Finally, they stopped.
“Can’t we let them out now?”
“Not this close to the road. We’ll need to carry them until we reach a better spot.” Father nudged her shoulder. “Are you coming?”
He put the music box into his pocket before getting out of the car and to the back. Ellington stretched her fingers through the grates and let Bold and Charmer sniff her. They were restless now, biting the grates and trying to push their snouts outside. Father hoisted the boxes off the truck. After a few steps, they came to a narrow, winding path leading away from the road and down the hill. Father stopped dead at a bright red sign with large yellow letters. Ellington had never seen such a sign before in the woods. It looked unfriendly.
“Warning,” she managed to read. “Tres-tresp…”
“‘Trespassing prohibited. Unsafe territory ahead.’ What’s that nonsense?”
He stepped closer and frowned at a line of smaller text below the bigger letters.
“This sign has been set up by the orders of city authorities,” he muttered.
“What does that mean, Father?”
“It means no one is allowed to go down this path because it’s dangerous. And the sign is brand-new. It must have been set up only a few weeks ago. Or even days.”
“What are we to do now?”
Father pinched his lips and thought for a moment.
“I know this valley, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s see what this is about. We’ll leave Charmer and Bold here for now. We’ll put them in the driver’s cab so they’ll be safe. Now, Ellington, I want you to hold my hand and stay behind me. Do you understand me?”
Ellington nodded quickly. She had accompanied him to his work in the woods for as long as she could remember. The first thing he had taught her was that whatever he told her to do out in the wild, she was to obey at once without question because the wild could be dangerous if you didn’t know your way around. Like the time when they had stumbled upon an angry wildcat that had hissed at Ellington. She had screamed and wanted to run away, but Father had ordered her not to move. He had stood between her and the cat and hissed back, sounding just like the cat, only fiercer. The cat had cowered and fled.
She held out her hand, and he took it firmly. But then he smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything is fine.”
“Better be too careful a hundred times than too careless once,” she recited.
He ruffled her hair. “Exactly. Let’s go.”
They stepped down the path. Soon, it became so steep Ellington had to be careful not to trip over. Father stopped every few steps to look around and listen if there were any unusual noises. It was getting darker and darker the farther they got down. Ellington looked up. There were too many birds in the trees. Usually, the animals of the woods knew how not to be seen, even when they were close nearby. But now, there were so many of them that the branches could hardly carry them all. From below came the loud humming of insects. And there was a strange smell in the air, like salt mixed with something sickly sweet and bitter. Ellington spared a glance at Father. He looked truly nervous now. She was beginning to feel scared. She wanted to go back.
“Father,” she said, but he raised a finger to his lips and shook his head.
They went around a curve and came to a slope so they could see the trees in the valley below. Father froze, making Ellington stumble.
At first, Ellington didn’t understand what she saw. There were the treetops covered in red, yellow, and orange leaves. But the trunks had vanished under muddy, greyish-green water. Branches were drifting on the surface, with splintered, bright, raw wood where they had been ripped off. In some places, the water shone with all the colors of the rainbow where the sunlight hit the surface. The smell was intense now, rancid and rotten. Ellington gagged, and Father made a strangled sound.
“What - what on earth…?”
Only now, Ellington noticed something else was drifting in the water beside the broken trees. Dark, shapeless lumps of different sizes. She recognized the black and white coat of a badger. It was floating in a shimmering puddle of rainbow-colored water, its eyes empty, its fur smeared with something dark and sticky-looking. Hundreds of flies were crawling over its body.
The whole valley was underwater and filled with drowned animals.
“Father?”
But he just kept staring at the drowned valley below. A horrible, raging screech echoed through the forest. It sounded like a monster. It sounded like Ellington had imagined the dragon’s roar in the story about Bilbo Baggins.
“And the authorities know. And what do they do? Set up a sign. A sign!” His last words ended in another ear-splitting screech.
“Father,” Ellington whimpered.
“Be quiet, I need to think!” he snarled through gritted teeth. His face was twisted in a way she had never seen before. His cheeks and mouth twitched. Ellington let out a quiet sob.
“Stop whining!”
She pressed her tongue against her gum, desperate to cry without a sound. This was not her father anymore. This was the wildcat who had terrified her and would attack her if she made one more noise. Suddenly, he turned and marched back up the path, dragging her along without paying attention when she stumbled. He even pulled her across the ground before she could get back to her feet.
When they arrived at the road, Father kicked the sign violently, again and again, until it tilted to one side. He yanked open the driver’s door and hoisted Charmer’s and Bold’s boxes onto the loading space much rougher than usual. Then he shoved Ellington into the passenger’s seat, climbed in after her, and turned the key with trembling fingers. He reached for the instrument board, irritated because his music box wasn’t there. Ellington flinched every time he slammed his palm on the instrument board.
“It’s still in your pocket,” she whispered.
Father startled and blinked at her. “Ellington? I’m so sorry. It's alright. Everything will be alright.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a close hug. She sobbed loudly now against his shoulder as he cradled her and stroked her head without saying a word. He just hummed the tune from the music box. Finally, he let go and gently wiped her face with his handkerchief.
“We need to go back to town,” he said, clutching the steering wheel and taking a few deep breaths. “I can’t take you home yet. We need to alert everyone as soon as possible. Do you understand that?”
Ellington just nodded.
“We need to act before the damage gets even worse. We’ll need the fire department. We need to alert…the mayor.”
Ellington still shivered all the way back to town, staring into her lap for the most time. Sometimes, she spared a glance at Father, terrified that one false move would turn him into a monster again. She wished Bold and Charmer were here with her. Finally, she worked up the courage to ask: “What was that?”
“I don’t know. Not a natural flood, that’s for sure.” As he spoke, he turned his face away, but she could still see the strange flicker in his eyes. With a sickening turn of her stomach, she realized he was afraid.
“I need you to wait here for me,” Father said after stopping the car in front of the mayor’s house. “I hope it won’t take long. We’ll still have the cake when we get home.”
She nodded, and he got out. He slammed the door shut, leaving her alone in the passenger’s seat. This time, Mr. Parsons didn’t need to come to the gates, as Mrs. Gray herself was sitting on her front porch with her family. When she spotted him, she rose up and bared her teeth.
“Mr. Feint. Have you forgotten something?”
“Mayor, we need to talk."
“Oh, do we, now? Our conversations haven’t been very fruitful thus far.”
From the porch, Henry and his older brother were staring at them wide-eyed, whispering to each other. Ellington’s cheeks burned, and she crouched into her seat, hoping they would not see her. Slowly, Father took off his hat, clawing his nails into it.
“This is not about you and me. Are you aware of the flood in the valley covered by the authorities?"
Mrs. Gray hesitated, her smile fading. "I don't owe you an answer."
"You will owe one to the general public once I inform the Naturalist Society and the press. One can shoot some pretty shocking photos down there."
"This valley has never been in my area of responsibility."
"It's in mine!"
"Not anymore. I received a notice from the government that they need the territory for infrastructure. Our town has been promised compensation, if necessary."
Suddenly, Father looked like a monster again. Even Mrs. Gray stepped back.
"Have you seen it?” he hissed. “The whole valley has been drowned in seawater and machine oil. The forest will die!"
"Do you think I'm happy about this? But you know as well as I do that we've got neither the means nor the time to do something about it. We'll hardly be able to pave the roads before winter. I'll give you the address of the authority in question if you like. You are free to try and contact them. Good luck with getting a reply."
“Don’t think you can get away so easily. You have to reach out to the mayors of the neighboring towns right away. Whoever is behind this, we can only match them if we stand together. I’ll alert the nearest fire departments.”
“The nearest fire department is in Stain’d-by-the-Sea, and it’s not the size it used to be. Again, you will have to try with the authorities. Perhaps your friends at the Naturalist Society have some contacts.”
“And what contacts do you have, Mayor?” Father spat.
"I've heard of a volunteer fire department that can help in such cases,” Mrs. Gray murmured hesitantly. “I'd be careful to seek them out, though. They have a dubious reputation.”
“We can hardly afford to be picky.”
“We should, Mr. Feint.” Mrs. Gray’s eyes darted towards the car where Ellington was sitting, although Ellington wasn’t sure if she’d spotted her. “They are said to fix all kinds of trouble without expecting payment. But when they leave, children will surely vanish along with them."
Ellington couldn’t hear what they said afterward. She only wanted to get home now. Only now did she realize Father had forgotten his music box on the instrument board.
